Sin's Torment
by shike77
Summary: Defying fate will not be forgiven easily. Soa's wrath will be made known to the leader of the Dragoons who directly defied her... through a power-hungry cult and a mortal child. CHAPTER VII UP!
1. Should've Been Dead

Sin's Torment

_by shike77_

**Chapter I** _  
"Should've been dead..."_  
-Creed, 'My Own Prison' 

**DISCLAIMER:**

...Silver knives on a platter, all arranged neatly around (and in) Lloyd's head... OKAY! I don't own LOD, or the songs I use for the titles of my chapters (YES I am doing that again). The plot, any characters that aren't mentioned in-game, and any places that you've never heard of belong to yours truly, who really owns nothing but a box of drier lint, a sketchbook, a bunch of pencils and an imagination that gets her into trouble more often than it does any good. Like writing these pieces of crap while I'm being shadowed by the brilliance of various other authors. *humbles to anybody else who's posted in the LOD section*  


**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

TADA! Me, again. I know, you're wondering, 'if she can't play LOD anymore, then why the hell is she still writing fanfiction for it?' I'll tell you why; 'CAUSE LOD DAMN WELL ROCKS, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! Not to mention fanfiction. Put the two together, and... perfection. And I have high hopes that we'll get my PS2 cleaned eventually, now that my Mom's got a subbing job and we don't have to pay university fees anymore (she was training to be a teacher). ^_^ Yeah, I know, sweet, eternal bliss. I could FINALLY finish FFVII, and play LOD again! That would equal more inspiration, and that means more frequent updates! Problem; I don't think my parents want to clean the PS2. It took SO much money just to FIX the damned thing when my brother and sister broke it a while back... JUST after the warranty had expired, mind you. x_X;; 

Anyhoo, about the story; Don't let the beginning intimidate you. Yes, OC's galore. Just a few will actually be vital to the plot, though. VERY vital. As in; major bad guys are OC's, and new good characters are OC's. ^_^ OC's are nummy. Taste like chicken. 

Oh, and VERY Angsty. Lots of death and such. Not to mention pain and suffering. And BLOOD! The holiness of all Action/Adventure. Not to mention fire and swords. ^_^ Sharp pointy things... And the occasional joke. ^_^ Jokes rule. 

BUT; a LOT of this story will focus on the Dart/Shana relationship. Why? Because it's IMPORTANT! At least to me. I really didn't mind Shana's character; just didn't use her in battle. At all. ^_^ Ignored her from the moment I got Rose. HUGE Rosers fan. But... I don't think she'll make a re-appearance. *cries* I know, but she's dead. I have long accepted this... bah, and such. But, in all fairness, there will be blood and dark thoughts to compensate. Me likies blood. ^______^ And fire. 

This is the first part of a three-part (that's all I've got planned, so far) series that ends with TLW. Now, how does this tie up with a Sci-fi thingy over 4000 years in the future? It just... does. o.O;; Trust me. By the way, I'm going to TRY and do the entire series like this--with the chapter titles all song quotes. ^_^ I'm showing my appreciation for my idols.  


And if I spell any of the names wrong, please tell me. It's been FOREVER since I've played LOD. .  


So, with no further adieu, I present to you; Sin's Torment!   


* * *

  
Soa's plans of fate had guided Endiness for the longest time... 

It seemed that, _finally_, she would be able to start this war-torn planet anew, make a Utopia. 

One woman, however, defied the world's fate. 

All for a silly reason. Her _friends_ had died liberating their people. Pathetic. It was a mortal thing to have friends. A weakness. 

And this woman, for the longest time, managed to evade death and kill the Moon Child every 108 years, so that the soul of the Virage Embryo would forever be lost in this mortal world. 

Her child would never be. 

Her sister was to blame. The foolish Goddess had always adored those mortal _freaks_! 

And to think, she had _almost_ achieved the end of Endiness... 

But, no. The _Dragoons_ rose once again, with their silly ideas and foolish courage. 

Of course; their sins could not go unpunished. Neither could her sister's. Although she could not punish her sister directly... 

Yes. With the suffering of the leader of the Dragon Warriors... 

...So would her sister's Torment begin. The Torment brought upon the sinners, but not for means of repentance.  


Soa was aiming for _revenge._  


***

She was dragged into an alley by her own subconciousness, her mind along with the deep gash in her leg. Dark eyes were suprisingly dry, even for her. Dirty hair fell over skin that was in the same condition, leaving thin lines of the blood the crimson strands were draped in. One hand clutched the gaping wound, the other the hilt of a stolen sabre, its twin tied hastily to a cloth belt--and seemed about to fall as it dragged on the ground. 

It didn't matter. Death was coming. Death was coming... no, it was upon her; she could feel its cold, clammy grip, squeezing even more of the life fluid from her veins to drip onto the ground. 

She shuddered and fell. Feel to the hot, desert sun-warmed gravel. No shadow now--sun in the east, shining down on the walls and ground in this pitiful place. She clutched the tiny rocks littered with sand, trying to divert some of the agony in her leg to the lifeless stones in the cobble stoned earth. 

She was suprised that they hadn't found her yet. The trail of blood left behind was so sickening that her stomach turned upside-down when she even considered looking at it for longer than a fleeting glance. 

She began to feel weak as she pulled herself up. Leaning against the building that scalded her bare skin--scantly clothed--so much that the pain in her leg subsided just a bit, she tried to relax. Perhaps if she accepted death, then maybe the pain wouldn't linger. Maybe she would be spared the hellish torment that ached her mortal soul, made it scream in agony. 

She snorted; Half-laugh, half-disgust. Since when had she been spared any pain? Soa above had no pity for the likes of her; a thief whose sins were numerous. She had lived her life 'missing her mark,' so the priests claimed. What missed mark? Her mark was one more meal at night, one more night with a full stomach. Thieving; what a dirty, yet satisfactifyingly thrilling occupation. 

Predictably, it had become the end of her. 

She snorted again. What was the word... irony? Yes, that was it. It had been ironic, to die stealing a pair of blades. A pair of blades to use to protect herself, so she could steal more food; survive longer. 

That was all that life on the streets was. Survival. She had long ago given up on stealing for the thrill; she stole to survive. And, in surviving, she stole more to survive a day longer. Live day by day, moment by moment. She made up plans that way; on a moment's whim. 

Her lonely thoughts were broken by footsteps coming down the alleyway. She heaved a sigh. Could she not even die in peace? 

Two people stopped before her. With her gaze turned down, she could see the fine tailorship on the boots. Both worn to perfection, both bearing gems that glittered in the sun. She wanted to spit on the ground. _Moneybags_. Greedy people who flaunted their fortunes, screaming like little girls when one of their billions of _precious _gems disappeared. She had a thirst for lovely stones, but had never stolen any, merely finding out names and, sometimes, origins of the beautiful rarities. 

One snorted and kicked her. She fell the rest of the way to the burning ground, a tiny groan of pain escaping her lips. 

"This one's probly dead." 

The one with thinner, fancier boots dropped something and rubbed it into the ground with his foot. "She's still breathing." 

"But she won't be, soon." The one who kicked her grumbled dryly. "Nothing lasts long on the streets in her condition, let _alone_ the trial." 

She felt woozy. To people were discussing her fate before her. Two _moneybags_, who could help her, standing there, making her pain worse. Suffering alone was much preferable than suffering in front of _moneybags_, let alone strangers. 

One knelt down before her, and she could see the bottom half of a well-groomed face, a thin cotton shirt left open to reveal average-to-strong muscles and a pair of dusty cotton breeches. 

"Try the Spirit anyway. You never know." 

A sigh from the standing man. "All right..." she could see a gloved hand reach for a belt pouch and pull out a smooth, round stone--and drop it. 

"Whoops," he mumbled sarcastically as her eye fixed on the gem that was rolling towards her. What was it? A ruby? No, too dark, and she couldn't see through it enough... sort of cloudy. Not to mention that it wasn't faceted--more like a pearl. A garnet, maybe? No, still too dark... and the cloudy part confused her. 

She wandered no further through her extensive knowledge of precious stones when the gem suddenly began to glow. A black radiance, a black aura of something far worse than death that sent shivers up her spine and caressed her face, welcoming her, taunting her... all those and more in the same breath. 

The deep crimson gem was snatched up by the gloved hand and thrust into the pouch like it hurt to touch it, and she let out a silent sigh of relief. She made a silent prayer to Soa that she would never see that rock again. 

The kneeling man smirked. "I knew it. Bandage her up, and keep her away from that stone until it's time." As he turned to leave, he commanded, "Make sure she doesn't interfere. Soa's revenge will arise soon, and she is the final key to the glory this world has yet to face." 

That's when the blood loss finally got to her head, and she fell into sweet, pain-free darkness.   


***

Shana gently caressed her daughter's cheek and turned away from the bed, smiling fondly as she closed the door, watching as the girl's chest rose and fell; a few strands of her blonde hair fell in front of her face, tossed by the gentle breeze that wafted through the window. Eyelids flickered a moment, but the girl just turned over in her sleep, amused for the time being by some dream or other. 

She walked over to her own bedroom, sighing as she realized it would be another night alone--Dart had been at Indels Castle for the past month, training the pages and squires in swordplay while the regular swordsmaster was ill. 

When she opened the door, Dart stood, smiling, and she stopped and stared for a moment. 

"...Miss me?" 

She flung her arms around him and laughed, softly, so as not to disturb the sleeping child. He smiled and gently kissed her forehead. 

"Guess so," he smirked, gently caressing her cheek. She smiled up at him and asked, trying to sound stern, "Now, how come it took you so long to get back?" 

He played guilty for a moment, gently brushing hair away from her face. "I'm so sorry, I got caught up with a pack of Trolls along the way, then there were rabid bears, and then there were some damsels in distress-" 

"I thought you were done saving damsels in distress." 

He grinned. "So did I." He leaned over and kissed her deeply, almost seductively. 

When they broke it, Shana smiled up at him. "And I thought one child pestering you to teach her swordplay was enough for you." 

Dart leaned over and whispered something in her ear that she prayed he wouldn't repeat in front of their daughter, let alone decent company. 

"Been spending too much time around Miranda lately?" 

Dart made a face at her. "You're awfully mean to that hard-working Sacred Sister, who never stops fighting for Mille Seseau." 

"Swearing all the while." 

Dart grinned. "I never said that she didn't." 

***

The six-year-old girl couldn't understand why her parents were so tired the following morning--they'd always told _her_ to go to bed early so that she didn't wake up at high noon tired and cranky. 

That's when her parents woke up that morning, except they weren't cranky. She had been upset with her father for not talking to her the following night when he had arrived home, but that had evaporated into thin air once her father had shown her a small wooden practice sword--just her size. 

Shana watched her swing it at the lazy hounds, constantly switching her grip on the ebony from inside the building, a smile on her face. Unlike Dart, who had wanted to learn swordplay because of the need for revenge, she wanted to learn so she could be more like her father. Be more like a boy. 

She sighed. The poor child was growing up in a society that was still getting used to the fact that women could fight, too. Serdio especially was a bad place for a tomboy to live in. 

But, looking at the child again, she saw Dart's determination in the face that was so much like her own, although the eyes and hair were definitely her father's. That little girl was going to change the way the world worked if anyone did once given the chance, one day or another. 

She closed her eyes. Dreams... it had been a while since they'd had any prophetic meaning, but she knew that the little girl was bound for something far greater than even her father had been... 

A hand on her shoulder. Dart's. She looked up at him, and he asked, "What are you thinking about?" 

She shrugged. "The weather." 

* * *

Okay... since I'm bored and can't figure out anything, I'm posting a short chapter. I know, this happens a LOT when I'm writing LOD, but I don't wanna get deeply into the plot yet.  
  
I've written RP POSTS longer than THIS CRAP!   
  
-_-;; Quoth Striker; "Ignore me, I'm used to it."  



	2. All that's Left of Yesterday

Sin's Torment  
_by shike77_  
**Chapter II**  
_"All that's Left of Yesterday"  
-Evanescence, "Hello."_

^_^ BWAHAHA! I'm BAAAAAA~AAAAAACK! ^_^ I know, you didn't miss me…

Oh, random note I'm sure none of you care about: I GOT A NEW KITTY! *is happy* Yeah, we named him 'Finn,' after the character from the Witches of Eileanan series. Me n' my brother suggested 'Goblin' (which was that character's familiar) and then my Mom decided to go with Finn. *heavy sarcasm* Anyway, he's just a perfect lil' angel.

Finn: *breaking something, climbing the drapes, crapping stuff that smells worse than a giant's gas-passing, and other such pleasant activities*

Oh—I know you're wondering about my Soa gender preference. ^_^;; Well, I've read the Witches of Eileanan Books, so I think Soa is an 'it.' Neither male or female but both. The God(dess) in that book is Ea, and referred to as a Goddess or 'she' although she is both Mother and Father, but neither. Get it? No? See if I care. ^_^

And another thing that's actually relevant; O.O Run like hell really fast if you're uncomfortable with flirting. There's a whore in this story (or man-whore, depending on how you look at it…) and s/he's a bit too friendly… Of course, it _hints_ at sex… but doesn't describe it. And… it MIGHT be relevant to the plot in the future, but I can always describe it later without all the stuff that makes people feel uncomfortable.

Anyway, once a red head male appears out of thin air, skip to the next section if you're uncomfortable with homosexuality / guys shape-shifting into girls / flirting. And before you even ASK – no, I'm not gay. Actually, I'm not interested in any relationship at all. WHAT? You don't look at the Yaoi fangirls like they're maniacs! Okay, so maybe you do… I just don't have a problem with homosexuality. I know that Roman Catholics are supposed to be against it and all, but… I don't see why.

But, still… *praying her parents aren't reading this, and her brother procrastinates long enough so that he forgets about it and doesn't read this*

Anyway… Yeah. Am I the only one who noticed that Dart's hand has a twitch to it? Zeig has it, too. Can't remember which hand it is, though… Kinda cool, if you ask me.

Anyhoo… ^_^ Story time!

* * *

Derek Failcross played absently with the glowing stone in his hand, raising an eyebrow at the man tied and bound before him, held in his place by two guards—who were more brawn than brain, he thought idly. He sighed casually, signaling to the guards to leave them. The brutes obeyed without hesitation or even acknowledging the command—the faster things got done, the better.

He stood, smiling happily, as the iron door slammed shut. "Brother! You have no idea the joy it brings to see you!"

A snort. "Hmm. Let's see; you have me hunted down like a wild animal, thrown into a cell for a week, tied and brought to you like I'm no more than a regular criminal. Yeah, I'd say that I'm rather pleased to see you, too."

If Derek noticed the heavy sarcasm in his brother's voice, he didn't show it as he laughed. "The past is the past, dear brother. Whether it was a day or a year ago, let us put it behind us."

He grunted, unamused by the highly cliché poetry he was being fed as a lie. "You found her."

Derek froze. The smile on his handsome face was obviously forced as he spoke, "I know not of that which you speak. Would you care to enlighten me…?"

"Cut the bullshit, Derek!" he hissed violently, dark eyes narrowed. "You and I _both_ know you've managed to find what you've been looking for all along! The 'Chosen One' to reap havoc upon the Soa-be-damned world so that they might repent for their fucking sins!"

His smile disappeared. Jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, the younger brother let out a deep breath. His voice was tense as the air in the room had suddenly become as he growled. His hands were gripping the stone so hard that his entire fist was white. "So, tell me how you've come upon this _brilliant_ revelation, dear brother."

Now it was the elder's turn to laugh. "You're so predictable, Derek. You've left me alone for seven years, ever since we found these damned Spirits and I left. That enabled you to inherit this _grand_ fortress, and that's all you wanted for a long time, wasn't it? Free Reign over your own little Kingdom, unknown to the rest of the world.

"But, no, that isn't enough, isn't it? You have to get on Soa's _good side_. So, you find all the Dragoon Spirits in hopes to jump on the Dragoons who defied Soa's fate. During the process, you find Soa's pretty toy. However, you know that the Chosen one of Soa needs to be kept under control. Needs to have a _reason_ to stay in alliance with you. So, you bring me in to keep your new 'friend' occupied while you're too busy sitting on your fat ass to be on your guard." He raised his eyebrows, closed his eyes, and sighed sadly. "Derek, you're pathetic, you know that?"

The younger brother laughed. "Well, you're smarter than I give you credit for. And I suppose you have some perfect escape plan as well?"

A snort. "Who needs a plan?" he threw the ropes that supposedly held his hands together over his shoulder and turned to leave. "I'm just smarter than your bastard lackeys." He strode towards the door.

"I still have Soa's chosen one," Derek smirked, "and I know full well how to keep her occupied, with or without you. Street Rats last only so long when they're being tempted. I'm sure this one has no morals, just like the rest of them."

There was a cold laugh from the retreating man. "Even _rats_ have a greater sense of humanity than _you_ do; they don't want the blood of thousands on their hands."

"You place too much faith in someone you've never met."

"You place too little."

The door swung open and closed behind the elder as the younger sat back down on his throne. He heard the guards scream, but made no move to help them, knowing they'd all die someday, anyway. Sooner better than later, those dimwitted fools. Their death was a minor setback, but not as big as them being alive. More, better guards could be hired to replace those idiots that he lost—he had all of Endiness at his disposal.

The only setback worth thought he could see was that his brother was gone. The man was not necessary, however. There were plenty of ways to keep the Street Rat busy. The girl was beautiful, and perhaps, if she was not willing to aid him on the battlefield…

His thoughts were broken by the sudden increase in the magical essence in the air around him. He sighed, leaning back in the elaborate chair, glaring at the space before him.

"You do know that trying to listen in on my conversations isn't polite."

From thin air, a tall, well-built man appeared before him, sighing as he brushed bright red hair away from pure white eyes.

((AN: You no likie aforementioned stuff people think is bad? Skip this next part, until you see the *** … 'kay?))

"We're on the same side, Derek," the man cooed, smiling sweetly, "can't I hear your pretty plans?"

Suddenly, there was a ripple of muscle, skin and clothing as the man changed shape—and was no longer a man. A beautiful, willowy woman with subtle red locks that fell far past her feet to tumble upon the ground in bountiful amounts stood there, wearing that same, sweet smile. Eyes swirled, and suddenly they were very human; a soft, pale blue.

Originally stark naked, the woman's clothes appeared on her body in a flash. A very thin, translucent pair of only partially-existent top and thong. She moved closer, purring.

She gently sat upon his lap, curled up and caressed his face. "Did your brother frustrate you?" Her voice impossible to compare with such intensity.

He smiled down at the woman, gently embracing her, playing with her hair absently. "If I said yes, what would you do?"

She laughed sadistically, running her hand along his elegant, regal jacket, fingering the clasps with soft, smooth fingers. She shifted closer, starting to whisper softly the notes of a song in his ear.

He smiled, hand caressing her face gently. "I think your answer is acceptable enough."

The woman smiled as he leaned into her, reaching for the poor excuse for a shirt she wore. Suddenly, her clothing was long, elaborate, and difficult to tell where it ended and her skin began.

"Now, what's the fun if it all happens to quickly…?" she cooed, eyes flickering as he grasped for the intricate clasps immediately. She laughed sweetly, knowing that his actions were not of his own mind. The magic she wove into the spell was too powerful for him to resist, and she _wanted_ him badly…

Although, if her voice had not been enchanted, Derek would show no interest in her—or rather, him in a woman's body. That fact tore his cold heart apart, even as they tumbled onto the ground in a mass tangle of clothing, tongues and bodies.

***

Black.

Everything around her was black.

This was the start of a dream. They always started the same. This endless black, the preface to a deadly, dark vision of pain and suffering.

This time—the pain wasn't her own. A young woman—sixteen, seventeen—stood with her arms held straight out, head rested against her chest. Flames poured from her hands and feet like rivers, and flickered from the corners of her closed eyes.

She looked up, suddenly, slowly, her eyes opening just so. It was impossible to avoid that gaze, yet hard to hold. The deep blue in the center of the iris was lined with a bright ring of red, although it could've been the flames that now poured from her eyes that made the illusion.

Golden hair cascaded down her shoulders and fell to her waist as she let out a shuddering sob. Her muscles tightened as her gaze fell to the ground once more, eyes closing.

"It hurts… make it stop…"

She blinked. That voice… hauntingly familiar, but so filled with pain, longing for rest, anything that would stop the agony, that she couldn't recognize it.

Who, in their right mind, would hurt this poor child?

Suddenly, she let out a mighty scream. The flames poured freely, burning so bright and hot they were white. The holy fire vanquished the darkness that clouded the rest of the dream.

And, suddenly, a million faces were lit up, their shock at the wonder of the suffering child before them etched permanently into their faces as they were consumed by the fire. Screams filled the dream—not only the girl's, but countless voices joined in on the chorus, a haunting sound that reached and screamed through the night.

Just as the fire was about to consume her, Shana woke up without the breath to scream.

Gasping, she glanced about her, shuddering at the feel of cold, sticky sweat covering her body. In the dark of midnight, she couldn't see any thing save for a tiny stream of faint starlight that entered the room through a partial opening in the curtains.

She heard the sheets rustle beside her and saw Dart's bright eyes highlighted by the faint luminescence outside a moment before she felt his arms around her, and then heard him whisper soothing phrases into her ear, gently running his fingers through her hair to calm her.

She returned the embrace, burying her face in Dart's bare chest. She felt his hand twitch, as it had always done, as he gently kissed the top of her head.

"It was just a nightmare," he assured her, "It's okay."

She shook her head, pulling away from him a bit, a thought suddenly hitting her. White fire? She'd given off white light before, did that have anything to do with it?

"Dart… do you think I passed on any of the…?"

As she sat in silence, trying to figure out the words, Dart merely pulled her close again.

"No," he replied, knowing exactly what she was talking about. "She didn't get any of it."

Although he seemed positive in the matter, Shana wasn't so sure.

* * *

@_@;; Phew… done… Took me long enough, ne? Anyway… to the reviews!

Striker — Yeah… the Rose death thing kinda pissed me off. *eye twitch* Eh, not like we weren't expecting that, though. She was OBVIOUSLY on a Kamikaze mission, there.

Shadow Wolf — *blinkblink* Eh… Am NOT a great author. And I'm NOT being too hard on myself, either! I know I'm bad, and I tell everyone else that. ^_^ Y'see, I'm horrible, everyone else is brilliant. Quoth my Friend: "You are in SERIOUS self-denial…" To which I just nodded, grinning. 'Twas amusing.

Fifi — Talent? *peeks inside empty box labeled 'Ta|eNt' sitting beside empty box labeled 'BrAAnz'* ^_^ Nope! None here!

Aer — *hands Aer a moose* ^_^ Enjoy! Anyway… Yeah. And Soa is… I dunno. I don't like Soa much.

Shade — o.O;; eh…? HEY! No worshipping aloud!

Saer: Look who's talking.

*cow-sacrificing shrines are littered across shike's basement*

shike: Bah, the Alberta government's killing 'em of anyway, might as well have some fun while I'm listening to all this shit about cows being angry.

Anyway… Yeah, I agree with you. There's a REASON Shana's the perfect character who everybody likes, you know. I get into that later on in the story. ^_^ There's a REASON it's Angst, y'know.

dark dragon24 — You got more! Happy!

Anyway… @_@;; Meep. *hides under a box* I'm gunna get SHOT for earlier on this chapter, aren't I?

If so… ^_^ Go ahead. I'll sick Miki on you.

Miki: .- DAMNIT! I'm a fucking DRAGON, how the HELL do you get the name MIKI out of that?!

  



	3. Maybe That's Why I Feel So Alone

Sin's Torment_  
by shike77_**  
Chapter III**  
"Maybe that's why I feel so alone…"  
-Creed, Weathered

__

Yessir… this story is SUPPOSED to move slowly. It is indeed. At the beginning, anyway. *maniacal grin* OOH, but you don't know what shike's planning, do you? DO you?! ^_^ Nope. You've got no idea. How me gets there, I don't know either. @_@;;

On a side-note, does anybody else have a dog that chews on their… claw / nail-ish things dogs have? Methinks I'm the only one… and my cat thinks he's a dog. He wags his tail (although it's too long so he just hits the ground with it), he chases balls (doesn't bring them back, just like Hershey), and this morning he howled. @_@;; It's scary. But he's so disobedient it's hilarious. He talks back to my Mom. XD you have to be there…

Saer: …Y'know, I'm a little curious as to how this ties in with TLW. I mean, WHAT, are you gunna reveal that one of us is related in some very distant and long tie of genetics to one of the main characters?

shike: ^_^ Now THAT's a little far-fetched. I mean, could any bloodline POSSIBLY survive that long?

Leon: Maybe with one hellova lot of inbreeding.

shike: *shakes head* Yeah, that explains what's wrong with Saer.

Saer: *death glare*

shike: …meep… Er, I'll be running away, now… *skitters off*

Saer: *chases*

Leon: … *blinks* … I need a beer. *pops open a Molson Canadian* Oh, and shike meant to say that she spells names strange because she feels like it. *starts drinking said beer* And that the beginning of this chapter was for Fifi. Because we all knew Albert would show up eventually, seeing as he's one of shike's favorite characters. *downs the rest of the booze and pops open another one*

* * *

Albert sighed, staring at the ill-organized mess of papers, ink and broken quills that lay on the desk before him. Scrambling to find a feather that hadn't been snapped by either his own frustration or just pressing down too hard on the paper, he scattered several sheets of the stuff about the room once again, and nearly dropped the ink bottle on the floor—although a mere snatch had kept it from ruining a months' work that was easily scattered by the search for a quill.

Upon finding aforementioned writing utensil, he stared down at the blank parchment in front of him. Now, what had he been about to write…?

Hazel eyes blinked. Once, twice… 

That was a really good question.

With an angry sigh, he stuck the tip of the quill in the near-empty ink bottle and grabbed the closest piece of worded parchment. No, not it. That discarded to the floor like trash, he grabbed the next. Not it either.

Frustration mounted, and the Jade Dragoon nearly growled. After a few lines of curses that would cause _Miranda_ to shake her head in shame and nearly the entire desk upturned looking for that one paper, he let out an exasperated sigh of something akin to both anger and defeat and slumped back in his chair.

Then looked down at his lap and saw the very information he had been looking for in the first place.

Blushing, flustered although there was no one around, the Jade snatched the paper from his lap—with a quick glance to make _sure_ that none had seen his folly—and, content, read the first line on the page.

A young noble girl had, quite literally, disappeared off the face of the planet. A month ago, she couldn't have been more pleased with the amount her father spoiled her rotten, while the man merely claimed, 'she's just hiding her sorrow in some need for attention.'

One morning, the servants walked into her room and found the bed empty.

There were no tell-tale traces of magic, and the window was simply bolted shut, as was the door. It was an absolute mystery as to where she'd gone.

Albert _knew_ it was a kidnapping, although the father's pathetic, enraged acusements about every man—and woman—in the court who had even _looked_ at his daughter the wrong way—in reality, rumour or myth—had done nothing to arouse this suspicion. He'd known that girl for her entire life, and she would _not_ run off on her father like that. She simply _knew_ that she was entirely incapable of taking care of herself, and, thus, was deathly afraid of the world outside her protected, sheltered life.

Then there was a sneeze outside the door. Albert's head turned, and there stood Khert in his nightclothes, blinking innocently at the King.

"Father…?"

"Yes?"

"Mother says to stop worrying about some silly girl and go to bed. Then she said something I'm not allowed to repeat or Nana'll skin me alive and hang me in the well by my toes for a year, then wash my mouth out for soap and never stop until I'm old and decrepit, and then…"

Albert laughed as the boy continued on with the memorized threats, who was undaunted by his father's amusement and seemed to think that the old Nursemaid was serious. He blew out the candle, stood, and walked out of the room, ruffling Khert's hair on the way and gaining a playful bat at his hand. 

He strode through Indels Castle, stopping at his and Emille's shared chambers. The King of Serdio knocked gently, opened the door an inch, and peered in.

Emille gazed at him with raised brows and that _look_ that always made him feel guilty. He smiled sheepishly, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"I know you're concerned about the Lady Dresla, but you do need your sleep. Let the knights handle this; you're a King and you have a country to run. You should be through with saving damsels in distress."

He laughed. "Yes, you're right." He pulled off his shirt, kicked off his boots and stepped out of his breeches. He crawled into bed beside his wife and blew out the candle with a sigh. He lay back on the bed and smiled as Emille curled up close to him with a happy sigh of her own.

Yet, even as he closed his eyes, Dresla's disappearance still nagged at him. Meru had even come in to investigate, there having been a major anti-Wingly riot in Serdio mere days beforehand, and yet she had claimed there was no Wingly magic involved. Dresla must have gone willingly, most assumed and rumours of mysterious suitors flew about the castle.

But… what if it wasn't _Wingly_ magic?

As soon as the thought hit him, he almost dismissed it. Who _else _could use magic?

Dragoons could.

He frowned. But… none of the Dragoons he knew of could teleport—let alone fit through that tiny window in full armour—but it made some sense. A rope would have been needed to land safely from a window that high up, but the window would have to have been left open, with no way to close it.

And, thinking back to teleporting, nobody really knew for sure how many Dragoon Spirits there really were. Legend spoke of Dragons ruling the world at one point in history, so there _must_ have been a Dragon slaughter at some point in time, resulting in countless Dragoon Spirits left to find a bearer.

He sighed. It all made sense, but he wasn't too happy about it. Why would a Dragoon want Dresla, of all people? She wasn't beautiful, charming, or even pleasant company, and her father's wealth paled in comparison to countless nobility figures in Serdio, most of which had vulnerable children.

Unless they weren't looking for wealth or companionship.

He sighed again. At this rate he was sure to never sleep again in his entire life.

***

A deep, heavy sigh, taking in the crisp, early winter night air of Mille-Seasau. The elements that drove the rest of the world inside to huddle by their fires rushed into a solitary room, tall balcony doors thrust open in a rush for the cool that might bring coherent thought.

Flushed cheeks welcomed the snowflakes thrown against them, polished leather and ruffling cloth. Papers, tapestries and bedsheets alike were thrown to the opposite wall haphazardly not unlike children's toys—and the curtains seemed soon to follow—but the Sacred Sister refused to move.

As if challenging the force of Nature herself, the White-Silver Dragoon stepped out onto the balcony, snow crunching beneath her heavy boots, arms held out as if to say, 'show me what you've got.'

Eyes snapped open, and the woman hissed her disappointment at finding herself standing before the banister. "Damn."

A gloved hand reached into a small beltpouch to grasp the shining stone with a blinding white aura. She held the mighty stone in front of her, sighing sadly as she stared into its depths.

"I know you hate being trapped here," she told the stone hotly, eyes flashing in anger, "so why don't you leave me alone?! Go find someone who still needs to fight?!"

The stone didn't budge. It merely shone with the brilliance that had always been welcome to Miranda, had always calmed her, but now…

The healing Dragon demanded to be used. It had been _years_ since she'd summoned the power of the mighty beast, why not use it? Why wouldn't she summon the power? She hated being trapped, too, why didn't they _both_ leave?

"Because I'm needed," the Sacred Sister sighed, "and there's nothing to it other than that."

The stone pulsed again, the brilliance of the Dragon's need to be called illuminating the world around both Spirit and Dragoon. The stone was needed, and she was too, but in more ways than she knew.

"What do you _mean_ by that?!" she snapped, famous temper flaring once again as she narrowed her eyes in a glare at the stone in her hand, unmoved by the howling winds that drowned out her voice and tossed the words that passed her lips to the sky where none could hear them.

The stone heard, its crystalline depths swirling with the light that displayed the healing power of the Healing Dragon, whose knowledge was as vast as the years her lifetime had spanned.

As powerful and as intelligent as the Dragon could be, she didn't answer her Mistress' question.

Fuming, Miranda was about to let the stone have a piece of her mind when the door handle jiggled.

"Miranda…?" the voice was muffled past door and wind in the Dragoon's ears, but was unmistakable regardless.

Queen Theresa.

A hiss of discontent from the Sacred Sister.

The light from the stone flared and dimmed a bit. It would do Miranda good to talk to her.

"Fine!" she snapped, "But you'd better give me answers when we're done!"

Without waiting for an answer, she shoved the stone back into its pouch. A furious glare cast in the direction of the Spirit, and she stormed back into the room and swung the doors closed.

She cleared away the heavy tapestry that had barricaded the door, and opened it to let the Queen in.

Whatever Theresa thought about the catastrophe that had become the Sacred Sister's room, she didn't even raise an eyebrow. She merely closed the door behind her and stepped over strewn belongings mixed with snow and sat on Miranda's bed.

"Come, sit."

Miranda obeyed, sitting where the withered, aged hand had patted the mattress once. She was stiff, and knew exactly why Theresa was there, sitting beside her. She knew she was about to get reprimanded for overreacting again, and firmly refused to meet the Queen's gaze, staring at the wall.

"I know I overreacted."

Much to her surprise, there came a chuckle from the Queen.

"No, Miranda, I doubt you of all people could have done any better in that situation. A proposal isn't an easy thing to handle."

"Especially not from a jackass," she muttered bitterly, glaring at the wall.

"Miranda, you know the man has a reason to be that way."

"Not a very good one," she snorted, eyes flashing, "but he had _no_ reason whatsoever to _propose_ to _me_! I mean, _honestly_! Do you think I give a shit about men and marriage?! For one thing, it involves a fucking _dress-_"

Then there was a knock at the door.

"Queen Theresa, Lady Miranda, there is a guest in the throne room who wishes to speak with you. His name is Derek Failcross, although I don't think I can pronounce title or castle he comes from, as I've never heard of it."

Miranda nearly groaned, but Theresa silenced her with a wave of a hand and asked, "What does he need to meet us for?"

"It's about the Moon Child, m'lady, although I don't understand it myself."

That got both Queen and Sacred Sister on their feet and out the door in a matter of seconds.

In her rush to reach the throne room—which was a mere walk down the hall—Miranda nearly tripped over several servants, knights and guards alike while the Queen easily dodged every obstacle in her path.

Upon reaching the grand, reconstructed room, Miranda spotted this Derek and her Dragoon Spirit nearly exploded with the amount of light it gave off. The White-Silver Dragoon gasped in surprise in spite of herself, glaring through the light at where she'd seen Derek, trying to find out what had set off the Dragon's rage.

She sent a calming message to the Dragon's Spirit, and winced as the light pounded brighter. She _needed_ to fight him, to get rid of him, and _soon_!

_Why?! What's going on?!_

She snatched the Healing Dragoon Spirit out of its pouch, temper rising as the light intensified.

It was impossible to tell, yet. Miranda wasn't ready.

_I'm damn well ready if I want to be! _She growled, trying to see the man.

If she used the Dragon's power, there would be less to worry about, and so many troubles would be unnecessary.

Finally caving in to the Dragon's will, she let the soul of the Dragon bathe her in the light form the powerful, legendary armour about her. Her eyes snapped open, and there was an arrow on her bow before anyone could move.

The light vanished, with only a small aura about the Dragoon, and everyone in the room wondered, briefly, if they'd gone blind, although Derek seemed unfazed. He merely grinned, holding out a stone…

A glowing stone.

"Shit," she hissed, predictably, as the light enveloped him. A sudden burst of energy ripped through everyone there—although all remained intact, unharmed—and Miranda was forced to drop the arrow and shield herself from any blow that would come, along with the other archers lining the room.

It was time to face fate's backlash…

Miranda had to wonder what the White-Silver Dragon meant by that, but couldn't question when the energy suddenly vaulted back towards a howling—in pain?—Derek, the man a mere glowing outline of a human skeleton within the chaos that had enveloped him. The energy formed an outline around his body, and suddenly gave a mighty shatter—leaving deep, haunting blue armour in its place.

The chaos dwindled to nothing, and the Dragoon smirked, folding his arms in front of his chest.

_No weapon…? Is he a Martial Artist?_

The armour was plain, without any of the engravings that had freely adorned that of any other Dragoon armour she'd seen. The gem in his chest was hard to look at—it seemed aeons of pain and torture were captured within its depths. Large, pointed spikes adorned his spine, arms, and legs, as if to threaten anyone who'd never seen a Dragoon's armour before.

But without those engravings, the Dragoon seemed… weak. No weapon, weak armour…

What kind of Dragoon was this?

She strung her bow, the string tense as she aimed.

Right… There.

She shot, the arrow loaded with light energy soaring towards her foe.

And, suddenly, everything… stopped. She couldn't move. She couldn't even turn her gaze to another spot in the room, her body unable to respond.

_WHAT THE HELL IS THIS SHIT?!_

She needed to calm-

_Hell no. I'm NOT calming down until I can MOVE!_

She could almost _see_ the Dragon wince, and realized she wasn't even breathing.

How… was she still alive? How could she still register everything that was happening if she wasn't performing any necessary intake of air?

Derek walked up to her, his head tilted slightly to the side, blinking.

"…So, the White-Silver Dragoon is not the Moon Child, as I was told."

_…The hell?!_

The man heaved a sigh, and suddenly Miranda breathed.

"Where-"

His nose met her fist. Hard, and with a loud snap.

"Fuck you!"

He smirked, not even touching his broken nose. The pull of time began to flow faster around him, and suddenly he looked a week older… With a fixed nose and a new beard.

Miranda blinked.

"…What. The. Hell."

He chuckled, waving a hand. "There are greater forces at work here than you understand, Sacred Sister Miranda. Now, I know that Dragoon Spirit once belonged to the Moon Child, and I that you know where she is."

"I never believed in that fairy tale," she spat, cocking another arrow to her bow, noticing that everyone else in the room was frozen. Did his magic have something to do with that?

"You'd better believe it now," he chuckled, smiling, stroking his beard. "The God that will be born from the soul of the Moon Child must be avenged, and only when the Moon Child is found shall the Sin's Torment dawn upon the world in all her glory, and avenge the God of the Utopia that was killed with the fall of the Moon."

She rolled her eyes. "_Please_, you expect me to _believe_ that shit? I've never believed in Soa _or_ her God of the Utopia." She let the arrow go-

-and it stopped the moment it left her string, hanging there in mid air.

Blink.

"Please tell me that there's a very good reason for this, and it's not just my recurring shitty luck."

He laughed, causing Miranda to growl. Oh, how _annoying_ that was getting…

"Time is of the essence… and, thanks to this gracious gift from Soa, I have all we need. So, if you'll join me in my castle… it's rather lovely, you know."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

He smirked. "Is that so?" He shrugged innocently, merely swerving to the side as she flung her fist at him. In missing, she growled and kicked out, only to find her query gone. She blinked as time slowly began to restore itself, and growled as everything suddenly kicked into movement again.

"…You better give me answers." She snapped as the armour disappeared in a flash of light and extended her hand to catch the Dragoon Spirit as it fell.

The stone pulsed. Even the Healing Dragon didn't understand it all.

* * *

…I think this is record time, isn't it? Must be. Last chapter was out… a few weeks ago. @_@;; Scary, ne?

*looks at reviews* Hm… Seems my Red-head's gotten everyone quite frightened / disturbed now, hasn't he? ^_^ I'm proud of him, although I think he needs to lay off on the sex. It's getting to his head.

Sniper — … o.O;; That was poetic… Kinda cool, too.

Aer — You read it? I figured you'd throw something really pointy at me after all I read in EHLOING…

Fifi — I'll continue to deny it for as long as I live, and there's nothing you can do about it.

MadamButterfly — Talent me no have. I have mentioned this many times, but nobody believes me. I want someone to flame me so I can agree with them… Oh, and Shifty? ^_^ He's going to get lots more in the fic. Story-line wise, he's hangin' around for a WHILE.

DemonG.Bear — I think Rose should stay dead. I mean, she's lived long ENOUGH hasn't she? Saved the world enough times, lost enough people… betcha she was kinda sick of it all by the end, which is why she died. @_@;; Nu, Rose stays dead. And action? That comes later. ^_^ You got a bit of it, but Derek's a bloody coward so he ran off. This story moves along slowly for a REASON, mind you. Everything's done for a reason. *maniacal cackle*  


Striker — *blink* Er… My muses kick me all the time, do they count?

Shade — XD *adds Shade to the list of those she's scarred for a few days if not for life*

Anyway… *cough* My hand hurts, for some reason… Which is why I'm not going to make the end of the chapter more attractive. So Nya. *waves* Ciao!


	4. I Just Want to Live While I'm Alive

Sin's Torment   
by shike77   
**Chapter IV**   
"I Just Wanna Live While I'm Alive…"   
-"It's My Life", by Bon Jovi

Enigma: YAY! I'm IN this one! FINALLY! *cheers*

Saer: … *looking at shike* Are you suicidal?

shike: … There are days when I wonder.

Leon: … Days? I'm wondering all the time. What with incorporating every single thing that pisses people off in your stories except for the highly stereotypical newbie.

shike: ^_^;; You think so?

The bully part…? Meh, I was bored. Needed a way to introduce Nig, and this' been on my mind for a bit. Not to mention I'm a bit bitter when it comes to the bully subject… @_@ Three guesses why. The first two don't count.

* * *

"Hey, Ahnna!"

A whimper passed pale lips and the little girl continued on her way, determined not to look at the alleyway she'd just passed. Maybe they'd ignore her if she didn't look at them, she thought as she kept her eyes on the small black kitten cradled in her arms. The animal peered over her shoulder and hissed at the leering boys, ears flat against her skull.

"Calm down," she warned, "they're stronger than we are. All we have to do is ignore them."

Something caught her eye—movement on the rooftops. The girl dressed in rags shuddered involuntarily, her pace quickening. So, they were going to ambush her. Jump her and drag her off into an ally, then beat her until she's black and blue, then threaten her so that she was far too frightened to tell a soul.

Nearly stumbling on her skirts, she finally made it onto her street. There, that's where she could hide. The little shack that her Grandmother lived in, all alone, and wait out the boys there. The old woman would threaten them and chase them away with her broom if they ever came near…

A tall, burly boy stepped out from behind a crate in front of her and she yelped, falling backwards. Scrambling away from him, her breath irregular and heavy, she bumped into someone's legs.

"Trying to get away, Ahnna?"

She screamed as he kicked her cheek, tears welling up in her eyes. Her mouth screamed in pain as she was picked up harshly by her shoulders and thrown against a wall.

The kitten growled—a rather amusing sound—and jumped on the attacker's face.

The boy screamed, the kitten's claws digging into his skin and used as supports for the rest of the black animal's tiny body, her long tail lashing about like a whip that slapped his thick neck.

He tried to pull the kitten away from his face, but only caused himself further pain as his flesh tore and ripped. The other boys attempted to help, and the original attacker couldn't tell them off for the massive pain inflicted upon his face.

Curses flew throughout the group, and eventually the kitten tired and dropped from her hold, scampering back into the stunned girl's arms.

"Little witch!" one screamed, "Just like that ugly hag!"

"Get her!"

The group surrounded her, and she whimpered, clutching the hissing kitten in her arms, trying to find a way out…

_Look up!_

Wondering if the thought had been her own, the little girl felt tears on her cheeks as she looked to the sky.

Suddenly, a figure dropped from above, landing in between Ahnna and the gang without a sound, long cloak billowing out behind like Death's robes.

The figure stood from a crouch and pushed back the hood of the cloak, revealing short, tousled mud-brown hair. She tilted her head slightly to the side, raising an eyebrow up at those assembled before her—she couldn't be much taller than five feet.

"Did someone just call for an ass-kickin'?"

The assembled gang _blinked_. A Short, scrawny, apparently fourteen-year old girl stood before them, tossing a pair of daggers in the air absently, catching them with ease by the tip of the blade, which she held delicately in between her thumb and index finger before throwing them into the air again. She didn't watch as they spun and fell, merely caught, as if she knew how to use them.  


The gang-leader soon recuperated and merely laughed, his cronies following suit.

"What?! Another little girl to get in my way?!"

He didn't notice how she suddenly stopped, bright jade eyes burning with a sudden hatred, daggers hanging in mid-air as if held by strings from above.

He waved a hand. "You'll have to move, kid, or I'll be forced to hurt you."

"You'll have to leave, or else I'll be forced to inflict great bodily pain upon you in a very undesirable fashion." At the blank stares she received, she rolled her eyes and continued, "Meaning I'll have to rip your fucking balls off."

That gained a round of laughter from the boys in front of her. She raised an eyebrow, grabbed her daggers from where they still hung in mid-air, and threw them.

Suddenly, the gang-leader was pinned to a wall by both daggers, the thick fabric of his shirt preventing him from moving.

The gang attacked her as one, and she grinned. She backflipped, kicking two in the face in the process and landed on her hands. She kicked another several times in the face, still on her hands, then flipped back to her feet, the movement shoving him into a few of his comrades. One rounded back and leapt for her, only to be punched in the face. His nose gave a sickening crack, and she smiled as she pulled her fist back with blood on it. She tentatively licked her hand, eyes shining in the delight of fresh-drawn blood.

Two picked up rocks and threw them, the stones soaring towards the brunette in the cape. She merely reached out with her arm and they stopped in mid-air, then reversed direction and hit the defenseless gang members who had thrown them in the eyes.

Grinning at their confused and frightened looks, she grinned.

"You've never seen telekinesis before? Ingrown little fuckers, aren'cha?"

At their blank stares, she only laughed. They cringed, as if expecting her to kill them with a flick of her finger next.

She winked her right eye—which had a red, jagged scar running through it, although the jade orb itself was untouched—and snapped her fingers, causing some of the young gang members to yelp. 

Instead of a big explosion, a ball of flame hovered directly in front of her, dancing at her fingertips.

Ahnna couldn't help but giggle. This girl with the daggers had the tough-appearing boys down to little more than whimpering dogs. Suddenly, she wasn't so intimidated by them, and doubted that she would ever be so again.

"Now, I think you jackasses have some apologizing to do."

The daggers flew back to her hands and the gang leader hit the ground with a thud and a groan. She walked right up to him, grabbed his collar, and hoisted him up to her eye level—which had him on his knees, so if it had been anyone but this particular girl he wouldn't have been so frightened.

Grabbing the dagger that had entwining vines carved into the hilt and blade, she held it up o his neck, threatening him.

"Okay, bitches, here's the story;" trying to keep a straight face as he whimpered, she continued. "Not only will you apologize to this fine young lady, each in turn, and be her loyal servant for the rest of your miserable, worthless lives, but you will all walk up to the village elders, turn around, take off your pants and show them your lily white asses in broad daylight in the middle of that festival tomorrow. With no disguises what so ever. And if there is one hair on this fine young lady's head harmed, I will hunt you down and skin you alive. Deal?"

Every boy, pale and frightened silly, nodded franticly, swearing that they'd do just so as long as she didn't kill them.

"Very good," she dropped the leader with a thud—who immediately began kissing the ground at a very amused Ahnna's feet—and innocently dusted off her hands and readjusted her cape. "Another job done well, fine assassin," she mused to herself, grinning.

The black kitten bounded out of Ahnna's arms and leapt into those of the caped girl, who held her up and glared at her sternly.

"Nariko, I thought we were done playing around and beaten' up busses. You know that I told you I'm a professional assassin and I don't need to be playing with children."  


The kitten mewled, blinking eyes identical to the assassin's, a scarred ear twitching.

"Shut up, you. I am _not_ a kid, I'm five-hundred ninety-seven years old, and _you_ know it."

Another small sound.

"As of this summer. I had a party and everything…!"

The two 'bickered' as the assassin—or so she called herself—walked away, not heeding the stares that followed her. Ahnna wanted to follow her and thank her, but the girl put up her hood and disappeared behind a building—never to be seen again.

The little girl smiled as she skipped to her grandmother's home. _Gramma's gunna wanna hear this!_

***

"… No, _you_ owe _me_ twenty rupees. _I _bet _you_ I could take 'em all on without 'em touchin' me."

Nariko's only objection was to turn around and start cleaning herself in a rather inappropriate area.

"I take it that's the cat's way of saying, 'kiss my ass'?"

A snort from the assassin, who glared at her companion and replied sarcastically, "_No_, she's saying 'camels go moo and fluffy _bunnies_ run amok across the plains in search for everlasting _peace_."

"Alright then, I'll remember that," her friend replied dryly, wincing as he cut himself with the small knife he was using to shave the beard he'd grown during imprisonment. The assassin ignored him, pouring over a crude map he'd dropped at her feet when he'd arrived at the room in the inn. She resisted the urge to smudge the chalk that had been used to roughly sketch out the course to their destination—whatever it was—just to spite the man, but decided against it, glancing at the broadsword strapped to his back.

"Where the hell is this place, and why are we going there?"

"You used to live on the far continent, right?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"Familiar with the country of Serdio?"

"Nope. I haven't been there since I was fifty-two, Krait, methinks they changed the name a bit." She squinted at a small circle in the map, frowning at it. "But I know that lake, though. Or at least I think that's it. You're not much of an artist, buddy."

Krait rolled his eyes, examining the cut on his chin further in the dirty, smudged mirror. "I've seen _you_ try to draw, Enigma, and I think your skills leave much to be desired in comparison to even mine."

"Hey, my stick people are a work of art, thank you very much. And I'm damn proud of 'em, too."

A sigh from the man, who turned on his heel and knelt down beside her, using the slightly bloody knife to point to a dot on the map. "Indels Castle in Bale is our destination, and there we'll find the Jade Dragoon."

"Aw, hell." Enigma stood, folding her arms. "Don't try and trick me, buddy. A castle means royalty, and royalty are all stuck up pains in the asses."

"Does that include me?" he asked wryly, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't count," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

"And why not?"

"Because you're a mercenary for hire now, not ruling over people with an iron fist being a total asshole to them. Plus, you can kick my ass any day of the week."

Krait shook his head, smiling at the assassin's reasoning. "True. Then again, the _cat_ could kick your ass."

"She could no-"

Enigma was interrupted by a mewl. The assassin glared down at Nariko, then back up at Krait.

"… You're conspiring against me, you shitheads."

"How'd you guess?" came the dry tone—accompanied by an amused mewl—and then an empty pack was thrown at her. "Go get some supplies. We're using a couple wingly teleporters, and might take a side-route through Ulara."

A groan. "Not _Ulara_… That _Charlie_ woman's there."

A raised eyebrow. "What's so bad about Charlie?"

"…Never met her, have you?"

"No."

"Pray you never have to. Whether or not it's to Soa, I don't give a shit, but just _pray_."

***

"No, you're holding it wrong. _This_ hand _there_. Yes, that's it. Now, swing. No, not like that. The weapon doesn't go _that_ far above your head, you're leaving yourself open for attack."

The blonde girl narrowed her eyes and grit her teeth, the awkward grip causing her to miscalculate the strikes. In spite of her father's glare, she switched her grip so that the other hand was on top—although still the proper grip, unlike her previous one had been before it was corrected—and she grinned, swinging triumphantly.

"… Right. Forgot you were left-handed."

She sent a playful glare in Dart's direction, and the man shrugged.

"While your father tries to remember the obscure details of your life, could you go wash up in the stream nearby? You too, Dart, it's time for supper."

Shana grinned as her daughter ran off in the direction of the running water, fuelled by the promise of food after a long day's ride and a short sword practice with her father. Dart picked up the wooden practice sword she'd dropped and placed it in the scabbard—which was then transferred to his bag.

"You're spoiling her rotten, you know that?"

Dart made a face. "I wouldn't call it _spoiling_-"

Shana laughed, and he stopped. He crossed his arms on front of him and titled his head to the side slightly, smiling. "Alright, so I do. But I don't really spend all that much time at home nowadays…"

She nodded sadly, then frowned. "Is that why we're all going to Indels instead of just you this time? Because you don't spend as much time at home anymore?"

Dart suddenly looked rather distant, hesitating a moment before he answered. Shana felt a sickening lurch in her stomach, although she couldn't tell why.

The Divine Dragoon glanced about him once, as if worried that someone might overhear, and then he walked forwards until he was standing right beside her. He knelt down, and, with one glance about the area, he whispered the news.

"Miranda was attacked by someone looking for the Moon Child last week."

About to enquire further, Shana was stopped by a rustling in the bushes, and she turned around to find her daughter scowling at her parents.

"So, what, you're about to get all smoochy while I try not to barf?"

Shana laughed uneasily and Dart smiled, although both actions were forced. "Sorry, we thought you'd take a little longer than that."

The girl snorted and sat down in front of the fire, then grinned. "So, what's for supper?"

"Travel rations," came her father's reply, and the girl frowned at the bread and Coney meat she was handed.

"… Damn."

"Watch your language."

"Yes, Mom."

***

"… Do you think that her answer is still the same?"

A pawn moved.

Setie stared rather incredulously at the man before her with that _look_ on her face, shaking her head slightly in disbelief.

"Soa, what were you _thinking_, proposing to _Miranda_?"

There came a frown from the man she sat across as she moved her knight into position.

"Only what I said. She is the most eligible woman to be my wife-" he moved a bishop to neatly dispose of the meddlesome Chess piece, "-and I do not regret my decision to ask her hand."

Setie moved the queen, shaking her head sadly. "Don't even think about asking her the same question twice. I know she won't hesitate to make your other eye black and slice off your manhood, just like she threatened."

The wounded eye twitched, the skin surrounding it blackened, blood having leaked into the orb itself. His nose hadn't even remained untouched by the furious White-Silver Dragoon's fist, the left side of his face a nightmare of black and blue. "Love must overcome all trials," he muttered stubbornly, moving his pawn to take the queen.

"There's a difference between love and a lost cause, Cedric," the Sacred Sister remarked dryly, taking the pawn with her own bishop.

"Do you presume my cause to be unworthy of your precious _time_?!" he snapped quietly, moving the rook to remove the bishop from play without a moment's thought.

"Whether you're talking about the chess game or Miranda, both answers are yes." She moved her remaining rook to the left, the white king's possible routes out of that situation blocked by her remaining bishop and a pawn. "Checkmate."

She stood and left for the Dragoon's room, leaving the sputtering Nobleman behind.

***

"… Kongol, I don't think we should've told Haschel about the situation."

The Giganto frowned, staring down at the young Wingly. She swung her legs absently, staring at the seawater as it cascaded away from her foot in ripples as her skin gently brushed the water's edge.

"Why not?"

She shook her head, the ribbons that held her hair in place bouncing about her neck freely, no wind directing them where to fall. "Kon', he's gettin' old. And he knows it, too. But I think he doesn't want to accept it…"

The Golden Dragoon shook his tattooed head slowly, with a great, heavy sigh. "No, Meru." He moved closer to the water's edge, staring out towards the horizon. Dark eyes seemed clouded, and he frowned once again. "Haschel… knows exactly how old he is getting. But he doesn't want to die in his bed. He wants to… die helping someone. Besides," the big, rough voice hesitated, and Meru highly doubted that it was because of the usual struggle for words in the human language.

The wingly felt movement in her stomach and there her hand flew without thought, fingers spread out over the skin.

"… Of all people, you should be staying home."

"Aw, c'mon!" Struggling to stand up without some sort of aid, Meru glared at her companion. "S-seriously, I'm fine. You shouldn't worry 'bout me, I've handled worse!"

"It's not you I'm concerned about," he shook his head again, reaching out to place an enormous hand on her shoulder. "What would happen to your child if you were wounded?"

Meru shook off his touch with a careless snort. "C'mon, I told Guaraha the same thing I'm tellin' you; Nothin' major's happened to me before, it's not gunna happen now! I've got a few months before she's due, an' I'm not gunna sit at home while you guys fig're out who's after Shana! An' that's that!"

Kongol knew that arguing the case further would only result in the Wingly's temper rising. He cast a glance over the loose, baggy clothing she'd donned in a failed attempt to hide the enlarged womb, knowing very well that she'd only slow the group down…

… But did _she_?

* * *

… Yeah, Meru's pregnant. Yay for her, let's have a party… Or not.

Ahem. Onto the reviews! Yay.

Striker — Meh, took a bit longer this time… yay for me. *waves absently* But It wasn't Derek that proposed… @_@;; Of course, with that little bit I put in there, it's kinda hard not to tell… And Cedric kinda got a beatin', too… ^_^ Good ol' Miranda, eh?

DemonGod — *blink* … Well, that's your opinion. But methinks that Rose kinda deserves the peace of death… In other news, never really thought of a Matrix Dragoon… *snickers*

Fifi — … Not like I'll listen to you. ^_^ **I** win! Want Shifty? @_@;; Have, then, while you still like 'im.

Shifty: ^_^ *glomps Fifi* Luff!

… No, he no die yet. @_@;; MAYBE later. Not sure about whether or not to kill him… Not in ST, though. He gets to live through this part of the story.

Aer — Technically it WAS Yaoi… And GOOD. Sometimes I feel like I get the strangest animals in the universe and there's nothing I can do about it.

Shade—Methinks you made some sort of wisecrack about my previous comment, but I only got . and… nothin' else… Is it just my computer? Methinks so, because my computer is shit.

Oh, and a universal note on Miranda: ^_^;; Well, I kinda get like Miranda on occasion… (don't look at me like that) … Think it was 'that time of the month' or somethig when I wrote that, and it helps a bit… Go me? Yahoo.


	5. I'm drugged to delight

Sin's Torment   
_by shike77_   
**Chapter V**   
_"I'm drugged to delight…" -'Temptation,' the Tea Party_

Hallo… School started. @_@;; EEEEEEEVIIIIIIL… *cries* But in other news with me, guess what?! SCANNER! ^_^ 

… This would've been out a LOT sooner, but I had a LOT of bad news the day I finished it, so I gave up on trying to write an author's note. -_-;; Couldn't think of anything intelligent to say.

Anyway… *cough* Well, I say the horses in this story look like REAL horses, not the demented mix between cow, donkey, and bear they are in the game. @_@;; They ruined the horsies for me…

Saer: … you forgot rat.

shike: ^_^ Right you are, there.

Leon: … *glances down at the rest of the chapter* … You REALLY like whores, don't you?

shike: … Not really, no…

Saer: … Then why are there so many IN your story?!

shike: … I dunno. Most likely because I'm really, REALLY bored and need that last character for plot stuff, and had no other way to incorporate them?

Saer: … That works… 

* * *

"When push comes to shove, _I _win."

"When push comes to shove, you throw your daggers at me and storm out of the room, dismantling everything mentally in the process whether you realize it or not, then come back five minutes later feeling as if you've just eaten a bowl full of sugar."

"… And your point is?"

"I give up!" Krait growled, kicking an overturned box across the barn. The already traumatized animals ducked, twitched, or even bucked and whinnied in reaction.

Nariko, perched on the door to a stall, was forced to do the first on that list to avoid being suddenly transported with the box. She mewled in protest, rather loudly, and an agreeing whinny came from within the stall.

"Krait, don't pester 'Yana. She needs t' sleep."

The mercenary scoffed at the assassin, who sat with her feet propped up on a small table, dangerously close to a rather large candleflame. Worn leather boots remained unaffected by the flame, even as they rocked back and forth, each time hesitating even closer to the flame before rocking away.

"I don't give a shit about the horse, Enigma! We should be _teleporting_, not running around on horseback! It'll take us _forever_ to cross the fucking ocean on a damned boat!"

"But 'Yana can't _come_ with us when we teleport… you said so yourself!"

"It doesn't _matter_!" he exclaimed, exasperated, "Because we wouldn't _need_ her until we get _back_ here, anyway!"

She blinked at him, rather confused. "Okay, what the hell is up with that shit?! Why are we _going_ all the way there, then coming _back_?!"

"Because _here_ is where Derek's castle is, and where he's got the single most important key to his victory hidden away," he replied, patting the brown nose of the startled Niyana affectionately.

Enigma frowned at him. "So… why are we _leaving_?"

"Because the most powerful Dragoons are where we're headed," he growled, "and they're heading for Indels Castle in Bale, our destination."

Blink. Pause…

"_Oh_! _I_ get it now!"

'Very good, Nig, I think your IQ just went up a few points," Krait sighed, patting her on the head like a small animal. She swatted at his hand with a playful glare in his direction, then stood up to feed the mare.

"What's the plan of action, cap'n?"

"First off, I need _you_ to get into that castle and locate the Jade Dragoon—confirm their identity."

"Sounds easy enough," the assassin grinned, cracking her knuckles in delight.

"_No_ killing."

"Say _what_?!" Enigma jumped to her feet, staring at Krait incredulously.

"I said 'no killing.' You could take out the Jade by mistake, or even make quick enemies of a useful ally."

"But it's not _fair_," she pouted, the last word wavering as she folded her arms. "Every time you need my help, I can't kill anyone!"

"It's perfectly _fair_," he retorted, mimicking her tone of voice, scratching the nose of his grey stallion absently. "You've had enough killing in your life, and I think you'd actually enjoy heaven instead of some eternal torment in a random level of hell."

A snort. She folded her arms over a flat chest and stuck her nose up slightly, as if feigning royalty. "_I_ don't believe in heaven."

"Even when you're of demon blood?"

"I didn't say I don't believe in Hell. It's just a bunch of souls floating around with funny-lookin' wings on their backs singin' songs and playin' harps is just a little too fucking far-fetched for me."

Krait rolled his eyes, glancing at the map—still crude and now rather smudged—tacked to the stall door. The next stage of their journey wasn't far away at all—the ancient Wingly mine was merely a few days away by foot, but Krait had little doubt that he could cut it down to one—except for the fact that the assassin was utterly useless once forced to skip her precious 'nap time'.

"… We're runnin' outta meat," Enigma remarked casually, idly inspecting some travel bread, "And I think this is starting to get fuzzy."

"… Fuzzy?"

"Yeah, with fucking green and black dots all over its—Oh, sorry, _his_ name is Bob, and he's become a higher lifeform than ever seen before on Endiness, so he's about to take over the world in one foul sweep of his… soon-to-grow hand."

He chuckled dryly, glancing over at the molding bread in his friend's hand. "I think it'll be a while before Bob grows a hand."

"Now, that's not very nice. Bob doesn't like to be insulted, and now you're going to have to bow down before him and beg forgiveness before he kicks your lily ass with the feet that will appear any moment now…"

He shook his head in amusement before turning away, grumbling something along the lines of 'you and your _bread_' before stalking off to buy more supplies.

"… Uh, Krait? Bob wants you to wait until he grows legs before you start running away…"

***

Dresla was too proud to stand and pace in the room, and refused to fidget like a small child. She absently combed her hair, her eyes unfocused, her mind lost in a confused, muddled daydream. Dull black hair had been tended to non-stop for the entire day, and fair hands were beginning to blister from the effort of forcing the knots out of her curled, matted hair.

She had given up trying to wake the young girl on the bed, and, eventually, had grown rather jealous of her. _She_ had obviously been washed, _her_ hair combed, _and_ given fancy outfits to wear, even though none would ever see her in them but Dresla. _Her_ hair shone of fresh washing, _her_ body of rich oils, and the pillows and blankets on _her_ bed were of fine, priceless silk. Dresla was ignored, dirty, her nightgown spoilt by the conditions in which she had been kidnapped, her makeup running, the chamberpot in the corner smelling, and she had naught but a ratty old cot to sleep on!

Dresla had not heard or seen anyone but this sleeping girl for two days, and she was beginning to be frustrated. No matter how the glowing gem in her hand had comforted her when she had first come, she was beginning to lose her temper. Hear voices in her head. Act restless, combing her hair for hours on end in some sort of attempt to send the voices away. Think in brief, uneducated sentences that were driving her even more mad than just the fact that she was alone and someone other than her was being pampered while she was being ignored!

The stone pulsed. She needn't worry herself so, she was perfectly sane.

She swore loudly. So, even the voices in her _head_ were trying to _comfort her_?!

She dropped the stone when it burned hot in her hand, a yelp of surprise escaping her lips. She cradled her wounded hand to herself, whimpering as she drew into a corner.

What she had originally thought to be a Rose Quartz, her late mother's favorite gem, was pulsing, sending the slightly tinted light about the room in a dazzling display of brightness. 

The silk curtains blew open, the priceless glass fell to the floor and shattered, and even the covers whipped from the girl's bed and tore her well-tailored leather clothing. None of this Dresla saw, for she had long ago closed her eyes in fear of going blind.

Suddenly, the light stopped. Too afraid to open her eyes, the noblewoman who felt much like a cowering child shied further away, into her corner, whimpering.

She felt something touch her foot, gently, questioning, and a small, curious sound akin to a bird's chirp reached her ears. Confused, Dresla slowly opened her eyes, and let out a gasp of surprise.

A small creature, not even tall enough to reach her knee, blinked up at her innocently with wide eyes that no light reflected within, and chirped again with its slightly longish nose. The creature was so sweet-looking that she couldn't help but sigh in adoration and pick it up to examine it further.

What she assumed to be the beginnings of claws were rather dull, and merely ticked her skin as they rubbed against her. Soft scales were tinted a pale, pastel pink, the beginnings of some sort of white, ridged spine protruding from the back. Four small limbs and a pair of wings unlike any that she had seen… No, she'd seen it in one of Albert's books, left so haphazardly strewn across a table, and by mere chance had glimpsed upon it and had drawn back in horror… What had it been called? A bat?

No, these wings were not bats'. Most of it was translucent—catching the light and casting it onto the ground in a rainbow of pale pinks—and only the frame was the same solid material as the body.

"What…" she stopped, lost for words.

The creature chirped, and, suddenly, Dresla saw that it was holding the gem in its mouth. Smiling, she took it, and the stone began to glow softly.

She held a Dragon in her arms, and a Dragoon Spirit in her hand.

Dresla smiled. Who cared if she was insane? At least she imagining something that made no sense whatsoever. And, therefore, once she came into decent company, she could easily return to being sane.

The stone's glow increased. Well, it was a start.

***

Well, he'd managed to find himself in a bit of a predicament.

Women here. Women there. All sexy. All willing to sleep with him on the drop of a dime.

Grinning to himself, the Shape Shifter ran the fingers on his right hand along the cheek of a brunette, and gently brushed his left over blonde locks. So many to choose from… All so damned _inviting_. 

Both women giggled, running their fingers along his muscular, yet slender frame.

"Come, we'll give you a discount…" one whispered in his ear, her elven ones twitching with anticipated pleasure. He glanced down at her exposed neck, seeing the flesh perfect, without any scars of any sort.

"… As long as you take both of us," the other invited, hands lingering on his belt. Her skin untouched as well.

Disappointment after disappointment. He'd been told to take only one _specific_ whore to bed…

And then he saw her, leaning against a wall in the shadows, her cloak drawn about her. Black leather straps that barely covered anything at all gleamed with fresh polishing, and a black leather collar lay wrapped tightly around her neck. Jet black hair cascaded down her shoulders and partially over her face, contrasting sharply with her pale skin. Bright yellow eyes stared at him rather blankly, as if daring him to come to her for the night. Blood red lips parted and she licked the bottom one with the tip of her tongue briefly, white teeth flashing. 

He smiled, stepping away from the women who had already begun to undo the leather strings holding his shirt closed, and began to finish the job they had started.

A sudden gust of wind blew the loose linen back and the shirt slipped from his arms, lingering for a moment, as if unwilling to leave the touch of his flesh. The black leather strap that bound his long hair came undone, falling to the cobbled ground, leaving the strands to fall about his face of their own free will, some falling right between his eyes.

"What is your price…?" he asked sweetly, every word coated with fine sugar.

"Your Humanity." The voice was cold, dark, and almost husky—although not enough to ruin the overall balance of the vocals.

He laughed, gently brushing her hair away from her face. "Now, if I'd had that in the first place, I would have come here long ago to lose it."

She smiled sadistically, running her hands over skin that rippled with the well-toned muscles underneath. "That's what they all say."

He held a coin to her lips, and she kissed it, elven ears twitching, yellow eyes challenging his—currently—dark cerulean ones as she licked her lips.

Yes, he'd definitely found the one.

She latches herself onto him, running her hands along his body, pressing her tongue into his mouth and running it along the soft pallet invitingly.

He needed no further invitation.

Needless to say, two minutes later they were in a room with a door that was bolted shut, contained no windows, and he had succeeded in removing her cloak and poor excuse for a shirt.

She broke their excessive, all to passionate kisses abruptly, smiling sweetly at him as she whispered, gently stroking his throat, "You know, you're the best damn kisser I've ever had the opportunity to meet in my entire fucking life time."

With a snarl, she bit down on his throat, sucking the sweet blood from his jugular vein. With a groan of ecstasy, she gripped his strong shoulders and used them for a support as her body curved and straightened with the delight of a fresh meal… his blood tasted _so_ much better than anyone else's ever had…

Then her eyes snapped open wide and she drew back, watching in horror and rage as he ran his fingers along the spot where she'd bitten.

"You _asshole_, you're not human!"

He grinned sweetly at her. "Neither are you, love—looks like we'll make a perfect match."

Furious, she glanced down at his rapidly healing neck… _Gods_, how she longed to bite it again…

With a snarl, she snapped herself out of her half-awake state and pointed to the door.

"_Out._"

"But-!"

"_Out!_" she screamed, grabbing him by the shoulders and throwing him through the door and several walls. She walked coolly over his body and down the make-shift hall, picking up her garments where they'd been discarded.

"… Fucking free-loaders," she grumbled to the questioning look she received from any other whore who had seen her leave.

* * *

… @_@;; Yeah, a vampie… and we now know that Shifty's not human… that was a 'duh' in the first place, shike…

… And before you ask, that has become his unofficial name. *scratches ear* Dun' Ask why. I was REALLY bored… and I had too many cookies… and I was RPing as Nig at the time… Yeah, there are days I wonder... and then I give up.  


Anyhoo… onto the reviews!

Striker — I can't kill the guy off THAT quickly… @_@;; My main baddie proposing to Miranda? He doesn't have THAT much of a fuckin' deathwish, mind you… By the way, where the hell ARE you?! @_@;; If you don't come back soon, one of us will end up writing 'The quest to save Striker' … @_@;; I know that much.

Fifi — … *shakes head sadly at a very happy Shifty* … -_-;; Annoying, poor excuse for a man…

Aer—Know what you mean. I have GREMLINS across the street whom I babysit… @_@;; GREMLINS, I tell ye! GREMLINS! Evil little buggers…

… 'Iko's kinda become a mascot over the past month or so ago I revived her… -_-;; Mostly for RPing purposes…

Shade — Yay for the short people! ^_^;; Being short isn't much fun in vollyball… *arm hurts from trying to spike over the net*


	6. It's not the Same Way it Used to be

Sin's Torment

_by shike77_

Chapter VI  
"But **it's not the same way  
it used to be** right now."

- 3 Doors Down

… ^_^ MuahaHA, the plot THICKENS!

Saer: About fucking TIME!

shike: … True. But, hey, I'm kinda TRYING to keep it moving slow…

Leon: … *to readers* The original TLW moved too fast for shike, you see.

Saer: Not to mention there's times when I'm too OOC for my own good.

shike: ^_^;; Hey, Gimme a break, will ya?

On another note - I honestly don't know what this track is called. @_@;; It's on the album I got for Christmas, but not listed anywhere. @_@;; Confuzzling.

* * *

"… What's the point of them giving us a tent _after_ we just finished riding on the road?"

Shana laughed. Of course the girl hadn't seen a formal dress before, she wouldn't be able to remember ever leaving Seles…

"I'll help you change into that. The colour's a bit too pink for your skin, but I think you'll survive."

She _blinked_ at her mother, then at the dress in her hands, which she then dropped and backed away as if it was poison. "… Uh, Mom, I'm not really sure… I mean, these clothes are fine… Really…"

The Moon Child sighed, glancing down at the worn jeans and linen shirt—both of which had numerous holes in obvious places, stains that would never come out, and reeked of horses, sweat, and mud.

"… No, they're really not. For one, they're boys' clothes-"

"What's wrong with wearing these?"

"… they're filthy-"

"I just got off the road, how c'n they _not_ be?!"

"… and…" she turned around from her position at the window and stopped to see a vacant space where she was _sure_ her daughter had been moments before, the only proof she had ever been there the dropped dress and the trail of mud from her boots.

"… Should have _seen_ this coming…" she groaned, then followed the tail… she was obviously running.

She sighed, walking alongside the mud, praying no one tried to clean it up while she still needed to _find_ the tomboy…

… Who was already around several corners, grinning at her 'daring escape.'

_I don't even _wanna_ know what that thing over in the corner was… doesn't look like it would fit _anybody_ all that well…_

She sped around another corner and ran face-first into someone who had _also_ been in a hurry. Both were sent sprawling—with loud cries that would make Shana wash their mouths out wth soap—and the girl got to her feet immediately.

"Sorry!" she cried, about to continue in her mad dash until she noticed the shining stone the other person had dropped. "… huh?"

She picked it up… and nearly dropped it when it exploded into a brilliant display of red light from which the older girl she'd bumped into had to sheild her eyes.

She drew in a breath as the light seemed to lick at her face like flames, blowing her hair back slightly. Dark blue eyes wide, mouth slightly agape as she stared at the gem.

Then she started somewhat, glancing about her. Her gaze landed on the person beside her. "What?"

The brunette blinked. "What?"

"You said something?"

"… No…"

She turned her gaze back to the stone and blinked again. "… So, the rock's talking to me, then?"

Then the light intensified, and both girls yelped.

"Alright, _alright_! You're _not_ just a rock! Hell…"

Then her mother turned the corner and _stopped._

The three were at a standstill for a few moments, during which Enigma's mind ran a mile a minute.

_… Okay, need stone to find proclaimed 'jade.' Kid has rock, and rock obviously don't wanna leave. This lady creeps me out, so…_

Without thinking, she grabbed the girl's arm and practicly flew down the hall.

"GottagofastfindjadeMOVE!"

The girl, in spite of the fact that the assassin might've dislocated her shoulder, didn't complain a bit beyond the initial yelp, and merely tried to keep up pace for fear of doing herself any more harm.

Enigma found a door that required no hasty unlocking and nearly threw herself and the girl into it. With a mere mental thought, the lock mechanisms switched and the door was barricaded.

Heavy in breath, she turned to look at her surroundings. Some kind of study, with a mess cast haphazardly throughout it. She picked up one of the papers and frowned down at it.

_… Dresla? Dragoon Spirits? I think someone's beginning to put things together for themselves, here…_

She glanced over at the blonde and frowns.

"Alright, princess-"

She rolled he eyes and snorted mildly in interruption.

"If I were a princess, I'd do something about wearing those damned _tents_." 

… Already likable. Enigma smirked and laughed.

"Just the answer I'd expect from a pansy-hater like myself."

The girl grinned for a moment, then seemed to remember the qustion she'd had in mind.

"… Uh, what's this?"

She held out the shining stone and Enigma guarded her eyes again.

"_Hey_, put that _away_, will ya? Someone might see it through the cracks in the door!"

The girl obeyed, frowning skeptically.

"… So, you're not s'posed to be here, I take it."

Enigma grinned sheepishly, throwing her hands up in indignation.

"Hey, I'm here on a mission to save people from something about Torment and stuff! It's all professional, kid!"

She raised a quizzical eyebrow and retorted, "Yeah, sounds _real_ important to me."

_Note to self: Broaden your damned vocabulary._

Enigma glared, one hand raised and her mouth open as if she was about to speak. Then, with an exhasperated sigh, she placed her hands on her hips and leaned on one foot dramatically.

"Oh yeah? Well, Camels go moo."

Blink.

"… What's a camel?"

"It's like a cow, except it has humps. And a long neck. And it spits…"

"… Right." The girl shook her head, pale golden hair swaying slightly with the movement. "And that makes _perfect_ sence."

"Aren't you a little _young_ for sarcasm?"

"Aren't you a little _young_ to be on missions to save people from Torment and stuff?"

Death glare. "… I'm Five hundred and Ninety-Seven years old, you."

"And I'm seven. Your point?"

Yet another death glare. After a few moments, the girl asked, "So, are you going to tell me what the rock is or what?"

Enigma growled. "_Kids_," she mumbled to herself, running her fingers through her hair. Always in the way…

With a sigh of defeat, she shoved a pile of papers off the chairs. "Sit. This'll take some time."

The girl—dwarfed by the large leather armchair—sat obediently, slouching slightly as she leaned back without thinking twice about the mud on her clothes.

Enigma watched her closely for a moment, then sat cross-legged in the chair opposite. She rolled her shoulders, not even hearing the multiple cracks that resulted.

"… Alright. You ever heard about the-'

She was interrupted by the handle moving.

"… Could've sworn I left this unlocked…"

Both girls looked from to door to each other with wide eyes.

"I'm doomed!"

"Mom's gunna make me _wear_ that thing!"

Both lines of dialogue spoken at the same time helped to relieve the tension of the situation. Enigma grabbed the girl's arm again and dragged her over to a book case.

"Here, hide. I'll explain later."

She clambered to the top of the shelf in a position that would hide herbehind the door when it opened, listening as the lock clicked…

Then two men walked in, and the room nearly exploded with red, green and gray light.

Enigma yelped and yell off her perch, colliding with a loud thud. Swearing ensued, and, rather suddenly, there was a very large sword at her throat and she was staring up into the angry blue eyes of a Dragoon.

"Where is it?!"

She stared blankly for a moment, then took a deep breath. _Plan quick, they don't expect magic here…_

"W-what are you talkin' about?"

Ah, the joys of looking like a scrawny kid of the streets—everyone falls for the sap routine, 'I was looking for my kitty.'

… Speaking of that cat, where _was_ Nariko?

A gloved hand touched the enourmous, armoured arm gently.

"Dart, calm down. She might not-"

And then another voice broke the tention.

"… Hey, no _fair_! You said humans couldn't _use_ magic!"

All eyes turned to the corner of the room where that blonde girl stood, arms crossed in front of her chest, the Red-Eye Dragoon Spirit blazing in her fist.

The one called Dart could only stare in dismay.

* * *

… Wow. Two updates in a day. Aren't you guys lucky?

Yeah. I had seven pages - but I don't like how the other half of it went, so it was cut. ^_^ And this is enough to make a chapter, right? Right?

^_^ *coughs* Onto the reviews!

Striker - ^_^ Of course, you forgot C) has to be utterly fucking suicidal.

Miranda: Damn straight.

@_@;;

Zix - Eh? Name-change? Hm. That's new. And YES, gremlins are very bad. *Nods* Evil buggers. Never babysit kids who go to bed whenever they want and 'have already been spanked three times that day.' NEVER. Besides, the parents never pay you enough.

Fifi - … *watching Shifty* … Y'know, I don't even like the guy.

Shifty: *sniffles - then glomps Fifi back* ^_____^

*shakes her head sadly*

Arreat's Hymn - ^_^;; Eheh. *is embarrassed* Glad you like it!

DarkDragonX - Mysterious, eh? ^_^ I guess that was what I was going for. *nods*

Shade - … *glances over at Bob* … ?

Bob: *has attached himself to the wobbly legs and arms* MUAHAHAHAHA! TREMBLE BEFORE ME- 

Wood: *wobbles precariously*

Bob: - eh?

Wood: *collapses*

Bob: … x_X Ow.

… ^_^

Shadow Wolf22 - ^_^ It's working sorta okay. My brother's too lazy to find the damned cleaning thing we have. *shakes head sadly*

… And that's all. ^_^

Bob: … PAIN.

Silly bread. ^_^


	7. The Anthem for the Know it All

Sin's Torment

by shike77

Chapter VII

_" 'Two more' _**the anthem for the know-it-all**

You won't be standing up for long

You better learn how to crawl"

- 'Flat on the Floor', by Nickelback

^_^;; Well, I want to apologize for the lack of updates to everyone… *coughs* and… eh… well, let's explain this quickly:

1. Writer's block is the bane of my existence.

2. My friends have decided that I need a social life. @_@;; THAT and I got Sparkey hooked on KOTOR, which she does not have.

3. I started up Fencing in January. Two nights a week is kinda harsh…

4. Musical Theatre takes up three hours+ of my Saturdays. The rest is likely to be spent on KOTOR. (BTW – wish me luck with my… long-ass solo song (Memory), solo singing of the verse of a song (first one of Thank You for the Music), and accompaniment for another song (Close Every Door). At least I'm not alone on that one. Ah, right, then I get to play Pyramus. -_-;;)

5. Did I mention KOTOR? ^_^;; Yesh, my brother has that game, now.

6. Ah, right, Midterms fried my brain again. We've been down THAT road before, ne?

Well… what happens during this chapter? To make up for the lack of updates, I tried to stick it full of humour, some of which might seem like inside jokes. They're not, I swear. *shifty eyes* You just kinda… need to understand them.

^_^ I _think_ I got the cat part down right. Anyone who has a cat will understand the heavy use of cat-POV. You'll understand what I mean when you read it.

Note about the Monkey Island Series reference: ^_^ That joke will never, ever die.

… Is short okay? @_@;; *faceplants* I no want shortyness… but it's the best I could do. -_-;;

* * *

The door was open.

Just a crack, but it was there, regardless. Green eyes narrowed, pupils slitted, the lithe animal crept forwards, muscles rippling under midnight fur. Padding gently, the dark creature kept her sights on he prey, watching the little grey mouse inspect a crumb lying on the floor. The cat's tail twitched, and, although she had to resist the urge to hit it against the ground with glee, she gathered her wits and pounced.

It was entirely intentional that she over-shoot her goal and plow headfirst into the wall. She _wanted_ to send the mouse screaming, she thought with a dainty sniff and a swish of her tail. She wasn't hungry _anyway_.

There was a slight laughter—two-legger laughter—and the kitten froze. Turning to face the sound, she found a small two-legger watching her, curled up into a ball on that big… cumfy-looking thing that she suddenly wanted to scratch to death.

Green flickered indecisively before the animal padded over to the two-legger, although her decision was not at all influenced by the piece of meat the two-legger was holding out. Not at all. In fact, the only reason she even ate the offered morsel was because it was _offered_, and she didn't want to be _rude_.

Now, she decided that, although she absolutely _hated_ two-legger-food, she didn't want to be disrespectful and promptly climbed onto the two-legger's lap to see if he had more. When the creature—grateful for her show of interest—offered her more, she was obliged to take it. 

_Disgusting_, she thought as she licked her paws and rubbed her ears after the plate of food was gone, _that two-legger food_. Stupid creatures, they go and add all that useless flavour into the meat.

Of course, she thought wisely, it had to be better than that skinny little rat she was chasing around earlier.

Then she looked up to this two-legger, examining it closely. It was so hard to tell the age of these two-leggers, what with looking the same thing for so long in their lives. For conversation's sake, she decided to call it a him, although she really didn't know at all. He smelt like… other four-leggers? Big ones? The running ones, maybe?

"Here," he mumbled, picking her up—because she was so full she couldn't claw him to death—"I think you'll like the stables. There's fat mice there."

Of course, she had little idea what a stable or a mouse was in two-legger terms, due to the fact that she couldn't quite understand what he was saying. The main message, however, was that he was taking her somewhere. And, judging by his tone, he was not allowed to go there at the moment, and he also seemed to enjoy it, so he thought she would. Alright, she might as well take up this offer as well, although he was very good at scratching her behind the ears. Besides, the view was good from here.

***

Now, when Dart was staring rather dumbly at his daughter, Albert sighed and took a step towards the girl cowering under the Divine Dragoon's massive feet.

"Step back, please," he asked the man in massive armour, and Dart complied, stiffly and still staring at the blazing stone in the girl's fist.

Albert looked down at the scraggly kid, brow furrowed, and asked, "What are you doing here?"

She would have scrambled to her feet at that point, but there was a very big spear-tip at her throat, and she valued her life.

So, she chose to crack a ridiculous grin and gesture to the over-sized outfit she was wearing.

"I'm selling these _fine_ leather jackets…"

Please take into consideration that the only leather items on her person were her boots and her belt.

The blonde girl in the corner's face twisted into a combination of a smirk and a frown. "I thought you were on a mission to save people from something about Torment and stuff."

The look on the grey-clothed brunette's face was priceless—enough to make Albert chuckle, in spite of the situation. Dart's fierce eyes softened a little, then narrowed again.

"Where did you get that?" he asked his daughter, who immediately cringed.

"Um… she dropped it," she pointed to the girl—fourteen, perhaps?—sprawled on the floor. "Then she said something really, really fast that involved running and… a jade?"

Albert and Dart looked at each other, and the King's free hand moved, unconsciously, to the green stone about his neck. They both looked back to the girl—whose eyes, Albert noticed, were the same colour as her goal—who promptly grinned sheepishly.

"Eheh…" she paused, then, glancing around the room nervously. _I'm in shit…_

… Or not.

Her arm swinging dramatically out to the side, index finger thrown out in a pointing gesture, she shouted, "Look, a distraction!"

The only one who actually looked was the kid. Bummer.

If she had actually counted on them looking, she wouldn't have had a back-up plan in mind.

Albert and Dart blinked at her as she rather blankly blinked right back up at them.

… Wait. She _had_ counted on them looking, hadn't she?

Well—time to improvise.

The spear moved, seemingly of its own free will, away from her neck, spinning a full circle as Enigma backflipped off the floor, directly to her feet. Grabbing the end of the spear that had previously threatened to take her life, she yanked it out of Albert's hands and swung it so that the point was facing _his_ neck.

Only his neck was protected by a piece of armour that was _not_ there before.

With a small 'meep,' she ducked to avoid the swing of his fist, only to be promptly plucked off the ground by a man at least three times her height.

Spinning on the back of her shirt—currently serving as a pivot, thanks to buddy-boy—she made a full circle, swinging her fists madly and attempting to catch something…

… But the very big thing that looked a lot like the cannon on a ship was pointed in her face, and she decided that, perhaps, five-hundred and ninety-seven was quite young to be saving people from… _something_ about Torment and… stuff. In fact, she decided that continuing to spin on the back of her shirt and glare at her captors was a better idea. The faces she was making at them did not amuse _them_, nor did they make her feel any better. So, while she came up with every foul or otherwise unprintable word to call them in the back of her head, she had no choice to sit—er, spin—there uselessly as the blonde guy in green examined her thoroughly.

"Well, you've found your Jade," Dart glared fiercely at her, looking like he wanted to gut her alive. "So you're going to answer a few questions."

Enigma rolled her eyes. "Aiight, I know what you're askin'—what is the single most dangerous assassin on Endiness doin' cooperatin' with a kid? And the answer to that-"

She blinked, uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips—regardless of the fact that her legs were dangling in mid-air—and stuck her nose in the air indignantly. Or so she tried, anyway.

"-is classified information. You should be 'shamed of yerselves for even askin'! Why, when I was yer age, I knew where to stick my nose and where notta! Hell, if…"

Neither Albert nor Dart knew if they could take this kid seriously. Albert's face twisted into an odd expression just to keep from _laughing_ as Dart _stared_ at the slowly spinning girl he was holding up.

After a few moments of her pointless ranting about how they should 'respect their elders' and other such ridiculous comments, Albert interrupted bluntly, "So you don't know _why_ you're here, afterall."

This prompted a few moments of silent spinning, and when the girl was facing Albert he noticed that she had screwed up every inch of her face into the single most impossible glare a person could imagine. A single brow raised at this, Albert looked over to an almost-snickering Dart.

"I think I won that round," the King of Serdio mused pleasantly, a satisfactory smirk on his face.

***

He wasn't really allowed in the stables—especially _not_ when his parents were expecting company, and, at least from what he understood, important company at that. He'd even expected someone to come in and argue with him about dressing up again, but it seemed otherwise.

So, he was sitting there in a pair of breeches and a shirt, waiting for _something_ to happen. His brother was quite intrigued to go spy on the guests using his new 'spyglass' that he was so proud of, but the younger twin wanted little to do with them. He knew Mr. Dart well enough; he was a nice man, and there was little a person could say against him, but he knew little of his family. All he knew was that Mr. Dart had a daughter—and most of the girls he knew wanted nothing other than a mirror and someone quiet as a wall to talk to.

Smiling at the black kitten, who was giving the mice a run for their gold, he turned the page in the book he was reading, only finding another word he didn't understand scrawled on the pages. Frowning, he looked up again at the large runner he was sitting beside, watching as the animal blinked down at him. It was tired—needed a better brushing than what the novices had given it.

After dragging a stool over, he clambered to the top of the thing and started to curry the animal's fur, moving the brush in slow circles and wrinkling his nose at the dust that came off. The poor thing hadn't even been brushed, yet! Maybe it even had a stone in its foot…

Halfway through, there was a crash and clamor of falling items in the tack room that sent the runners rearing in sudden surprise—except the one he was brushing. The animal looked at the others like they were crazy or something.

He figured it must have been deaf.

"Okay, _now what_, genius?"

He blinked. A girl? What was a girl running around in the stables for? There were mice in stables, and… didn't girls hate mice?

Curious, he hopped off the stool and picked up the cat, then began to walk towards the room that a large cloud of dust was coming out of. Peeking in, he saw a girl sitting on the floor, scowling at the glowing stone in her hand.

"… Uh, hello."

Her gaze darted up and she jumped to her feet immediately, dimming the red glow with her hand.

"Who the hell are you?"

He raised an eyebrow at that. If _anyone_ caught him using that kind of language, he'd be skinned alive—even if he wasn't quite sure what that meant. Still… she might not talk to him if she knew he was a prince… a lot of people were uneasy about that. Even _he_ didn't really feel like one… or know exactly what he was supposed to do.

He hesitated a moment, casting his glance to a weapon leaning against the door, then answered, "Lance. I'm a stable-hand."

Well, he _was_ covered in horsehair, so it wasn't hard to believe.

She blinked at him, as if knowing he wasn't telling the truth. "Shani," she answered, and he immediately knew that she was lying, too. She wasn't very good at it.

Then again, neither was he.

Scratching his head, he shrugged. "So… how did you-?"

Then he noticed that the shelf had moved, and a passageway lay hidden within. Eyes wide, he walked over to look at it. "Now _that's_ cool. How long were you in there?"

She blinked at him. "Uh… not long. There was something kinda going on with lots of yelling and fighting, and…" she shrugged, "I was gunna get a headache from the lights if I stuck around. So I was…" she stopped, then started again, "I noticed a door behind one of the shelves."

He wasn't listening—he'd already clambered into the hole, and was gazing into the gloom within. "Where does it lead?"

She shrugged, scampering over to where he was standing. "I dunno. Places, I guess. Just took the first left and got here."

He looked over at her and grinned. "Wanna check it out?"

She blinked, suddenly, as if a little surprised, then grinned back and nodded. "Yup!"

'Lance' let the black kitten drop to the ground, who promptly mewled at him and scampered off into the darkness. Grinning, both children followed.

A white-eyed rat watched them for a moment, wiggled his whiskers, then scampered after them.

* * *

… -_-;; Pheer me. I suck.

ANYHOO. @_@;; Must apologize for shortyness, and total sucking of the last bit. .- BUT IT'S NECESSARY. Not the sucking, but meh. Sue me later. ^_^

And there is A CLIFFHANGER. Sorta. And FORESHADOWING GALORE. Tiny things. -_-;; BUT THEY EXIST. In my mind, anyway.

… I don't exactly know what goes on next chapter. @_@;; Not at all.

REVIEWS~!

Shade - ^_^;; *starts poking it, too* … *giggles insanely and continues on* … Oh, right, reviews. @_@;;

Fifi - … Well, it depends on what KIND of ass. ^_^;;

DemonGod – *is being chased around by the box labeled 'talent' that has squirrel feet sticking out of the bottom of it* Overloading with damned RODENTS, maybe! *gets kicked* AI! Okay, HAVE the fucking PEANUTS!

Ye Say Ye Fool - *waves* Hi~! ^_^ Glad you like it!


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